


waterlillies in the pond (the sewn up remix)

by coricomile



Category: Torchwood
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-29
Updated: 2015-06-29
Packaged: 2018-04-06 18:01:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4231455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coricomile/pseuds/coricomile
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He, unlike some others in the room, knew not to go throwing the alien artifacts about the place without pause.</p>
            </blockquote>





	waterlillies in the pond (the sewn up remix)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [airspaniel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/airspaniel/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Business As Usual](https://archiveofourown.org/works/157747) by [airspaniel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/airspaniel/pseuds/airspaniel). 
  * In response to a prompt by [airspaniel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/airspaniel/pseuds/airspaniel) in the [remixmadness2015](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/remixmadness2015) collection. 



Jack lay facedown on the improbably small bed, snoring softly into his pillow. He looked nearly glowing, sweat drying on the naked planes of his back. Ianto traced the long line of his spine with gentle fingertips. He was so warm. Soft. Pleasant in a way he never was when he was awake.

Ianto carefully rolled off his edge of the bed and covered Jack with the sheet. The leather bracelets were still on the floor, curled together almost innocently. Such small things, barely even trinkets, but their power was nothing to sneeze at. Ianto grabbed his crumpled shirt from the dresser and bent to pick them up, keeping himself covered as much as possible.

He, unlike some others in the room, knew not to go throwing the alien artifacts about the place without pause. A few weeks in Torchwood One’s archival training program had drilled that into his head. Seeing Regan, a woman barely older than he had been at the time, grow a second set of arms and be escorted to the holding facility had added extra emphasis.

Were they only activated if both bracelets were being held while the targets were touching? Would the residual energy of touching one now and then touching Jack send them flying across the room to do their wicked magic again? He didn’t know, and he wouldn’t risk it.

It had been- strange, to have Jack in his head. He disliked the involuntary openness. Nevermind that he hadn’t kept a secret from Jack since Lisa. What, and when, he told them was his decision. That was how things went. How they were supposed to be.

Ianto set one bracelet down on the dresser and held the other one up, hand still shielded by his shirt. The gemstone looked dull in the darkness, nothing more than a knock-off diamond for children. Against his better judgement, he wanted to press a fingertip to it, to feel if it still gave off those slow pulses of heat.

As awful as it was to have Jack inside his head, peering into the dark corners unintentionally, Ianto had liked the closeness. The intimacy given by knowing. Jack worked so hard to keep himself a mystery, dangling tidbits of information like currency. Ianto hadn’t seen much, hadn’t tried to pry, but the glimpses had been enough. Jack had given up a few secrets, a few tiny pieces of himself that he wouldn’t have at any other time.

Ianto never claimed not be a hypocrite. He tried not to lie to himself.

“Unless you plan on taking a trip down to the archives naked, you should leave those until morning,” Jack said, voice muffled by the pillow. Ianto glanced back over his shoulder, smiling ruefully. Of course Jack wouldn’t sleep for long. He never did.

“Quarantine,” Ianto said. “Wouldn’t want you to step on them and start the whole thing over again.”

“The after was pretty good,” Jack said. Ianto didn’t have to see his face to know what it looked like. The false leer, the raised eyebrows and sharp teeth showing. There were some things Ianto knew on his own, telepathy not needed.

Ianto pulled a pair of socks from the drawer and tucked a bracelet into each one. In the morning, he’d do his walk of shame, endure Owen’s merciless teasing, and contain and file them away. He’d taken to calling them Bondage Bracelets in his head ironically, and planned on writing that on the box. Maybe, some day far in the future, Jack would find them again and remember him fondly Maybe.

Jack rolled onto his back and opened his arms, the sheet slipping down to show the flat expanse of his stomach. Ianto crawled in next to him, crowding up into his space to fit onto the mattress. Jack kissed the top of his head.

“We can do it again, if you want,” he said, breath ruffling Ianto’s hair. He’d left it deliberately ambiguous, letting Ianto decide what meaning he wanted to take. Ianto slid his hand down over Jack’s chest, over his stomach to rest on his hip. 

“We should,” he said. “Just to make sure the bond is entirely broken.”

“That’s my boy,” Jack said. He pulled Ianto up onto him, nipping at Ianto’s collarbone. “An overachiever to the end.”

“I do what I can.” Ianto kissed him, felt the familiar shape of Jack’s lips under his own, and pushed the thoughts of the bracelets away.

Jack would give him secrets or he wouldn’t. There was nothing else to it.


End file.
